


from stardust you came, into stardust you will go

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Heavy Angst, I'm so sorry, M/M, Unfulfilled Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 13:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13705653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: An accident robs the life of a Blade and a Paladin. Shiro hangs on.





	from stardust you came, into stardust you will go

Not in a blaze of glory, not for the greater good, not for anything but a mistake. As far as Shiro hears it, it had been an accident. One of the explosives the Blades had set up to the enemy ship had gone off too early, maybe unsettled by the rocking of the ship, maybe it had just been defective and Keith-

Keith had been too close to it, had taken the brunt of the impact and gotten shattered ribs and internal bleeding for his troubles.

(the only one who had known instantly had been Red, because of course, Lance had been so confused why she had suddenly refused to obey his commands, why she had roared and roared and surged on ahead to the hole in the ship’s hull. Of course she had known. A Lion and her Paladin are connected on a deeper level than anything in the known universe, after all.)

Shiro hadn’t even found out until hours later, until him and the other Paladins had been led by the solemn Kolivan to the room where the body- no, Keith lays.

At that moment, something had shut off inside Shiro’s head, all the noise around him- Allura gasping, Hunk beginning to cry, Kolivan’s teeth gritting as he once more bids farewell to yet another Blade of his- gone utterly silent. He had drifted off from his own sweaty, exhausted body and stared at Keith’s face, half-heartedly cleaned of dirt and shrapnel, his uniform torn to bits and what’s left of his left leg gently covered by a bloody sheet.

Shiro hadn’t even been there when he had died.

No one had.

Shiro’s own heart thuds in ears. His blood rushes. He knows he’s standing, he knows what he’s looking at. He knows he’s alive but still he is empty.

He watches numbly as the others go on ahead and crowd Keith’s half-covered body. Shiro holds his own helmet, tighter and tighter until the visor cracks but still he stares. He listens to the instant grief of the others and feels his own jaw tremble.

He flinches when a heavy hand settles on his shoulder.

“He was a great warrior,” Kolivan murmurs, his voice as deep as the rumble of a ship’s motor.

Keith was more than that. Shiro says nothing, merely wrenches his gaze away from the sight and lets his helmet fall.

Kolivan’s hand retreats from his shoulder as the man himself makes his way to Keith. Shiro doesn’t stay to watch as Kolivan sets his hand on Keith’s forehead and begins to murmur something in a language Shiro wouldn’t be able to decipher.

x

Only when it’s the middle of the night cycle in the castle ship, only then Shiro leaves his room. His stomach grumbles in protest for his lack of eating, his brain grumbles in protest for the lack of sleep. But how could he sleep?

His bare feet barely feel the cold of the floor as he makes his way to where they brought Keith just a few hours ago. Shiro opens the door. He closes it. He keeps his gaze on the floor. Shakily, he draws a deep breath and hesitates.

“Keith,” he whispers.

The air is still.

As still as the corpse covered in the sheet is. Shiro draws another shaky breath, that odd numbness from earlier still making his body cold.

“Keith,” he whispers again, his own voice unknown in his ears. He makes his way onwards. This room has no windows. It’s tiny. There should be windows so Keith could look outside. If there’s anything in the whole wide universe Keith loves, it’s the stars.

Shiro pulls back the sheet, his heart stuttering, his thoughts grinding to a halt at the sight of Keith’s face. Someone had been thoughtful enough to strip him off his tattered uniform and put something more solemn on him. It should have been Shiro.

“Keith,” Shiro whispers. Keith is still, his face pale. When Shiro runs his fingers down Keith’s cheek, it’s cold as marble.

The others had been here to leave their goodbyes, judging by the flowers- where had anyone gotten flowers in here?- and other paraphelia left behind. None of it’s enough because Keith is silent and still and dead.

Shiro’s head is numb and empty and numb and his hands have begun to shake.

“I should have given this to you years ago, Keith,” Shiro whispers, his voice barely louder than a sigh. He stares at the long eyelashes, at that smart mouth, at the hands someone had crossed over Keith’s chest. Shiro digs under the collar of his shirt and pulls out his dogtags. He had been carrying them for months, years, always with the intention of giving them to Keith if Keith wanted them. They had never really gotten around to it, to saying it out loud what lingers between them.

“These should have been yours from the beginning, sweetheart,” Shiro murmurs and gently lifts Keith’s head, putting the dogtags around his neck. It’s hard, Shiro’s hands trembling so much that the dogtags clink and clank and refuse to settle.

They glimmer on Keith’s chest, just over his crossed his hands.

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, brokenly. He takes a hold of Keith’s hand and kisses it, cups it between his own. He whispers Keith’s again and kneels down by the slab Keith’s laying on. He presses his forehead against Keith’s stone-still chest and draws a shaky breath. Finally, finally his eyes are wet. He whispers Keith’s name again and kisses those cold, cold fingers.

Outside, the stars glimmer, distant, ancient, unforgiving.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm coping with a real life death by writing about fictional one. go figure.
> 
> i'd like to hear something nice @ [tumblr](aarnivalkeaa.tumblr.com)


End file.
